


Cinderbelle

by Ethereal_Wishes



Category: Cinderella (Fairy Tale), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Belle - Freeform, Cinderella AU, Dark One Rumpelstiltskin, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Maurice French - Freeform, Robin Hood - Freeform, Rumbelle - Freeform, Zelena Mills - Freeform, cora mills - Freeform, rumpelstiltskin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:18:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6389818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereal_Wishes/pseuds/Ethereal_Wishes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle lived happily with her father Maurice until he marries Lady Mills. Belle's father tragically passes away shortly after they wed, and Cora forces her into a life of servitude. Several years later she comes face to face with a magical imp who offers to help her win the prince's heart in exchange for a deal, but Belle isn't interested in any prince. She wants him instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yay for new fanfiction! I've decided to write a series of Rumbelle fairy tales. I plan on Rumbelling all of the fairy tales I can think of, and adding my own spin to them. The only one I won't be doing is Beauty and the Beast because that story already belongs to them. Most of them will just be one shots or 2-3 chapters. The first one I've decided to try my hand at is Cinderella. I hope you enjoy this retelling of Cinderella with a different spin on things...Reviews are lovely!

Cinderbelle

A/AN: Yay for new fanfiction! I've decided to write a series of Rumbelle fairy tales. I plan on Rumbelling all of the fairy tales I can think of, and adding my own spin to them. The only one I won't be doing is Beauty and the Beast because that story already belongs to them. Most of them will just be one shots or 2-3 chapters. The first one I've decided to try my hand at is Cinderella. I hope you enjoy this retelling of Cinderella with a different spin on things...Reviews are lovely! A big thank you to Charlotte Ashmore for betaing this story!

Once Upon a Time... There lived a wealthy merchant named Maurice French and his daughter Belle. Maurice had a wife named Colette, but she tragically passed away when Belle was only a few months old, so she'd only ever known her papa. Belle was the light of his life, but he always felt something had always been missing since his wife's death. He did the best he could raising his daughter, but she needed a mother. There needed to be another lady in the home to teach her about the things he couldn't, so his search began. Maurice traveled often with his trade, and one day he returned in a very chipper mood.

Belle was twelve at the time and picked up on her father's jovial mood immediately. Something was different about him, and being the curious girl she was made her want to unravel this peculiar mystery about him even more. She knocked on his study door where he retired immediately after his return, to pour over his new trade documents.

"What is it?" she heard her father singsong from behind the door. Belle found his behavior highly unusual considering that her father never sang about anything. Was he ill? "It's me Belle...May I come in?" she called back.

"Of course! Come in, my darling! I've got some wonderful news to share with you!" he stated invitingly. Belle turned the brass knob, and pushed open the door. Her father sat behind his desk, a huge grin plastered across his face.

"What news do you have for me, papa?" she inquired, attempting to conceal the anxiousness burning in the back of her throat. He smiled widely at her, gesturing for her to sit in the vacant chair adjacent to his desk. She smoothed out her skirts and sat down, nervously awaiting his answer.

"Belle you're getting older and will become a lady soon, and I believe it's high time that another woman shared our home with us. I met a very renowned woman in my travels, lady Mills. She's a widow like myself, and has two daughters around your age. I know that you never really knew your mother, and I don't expect her to replace her, but I believe she would be a good maternal figure for you. She and her daughters will be moving in within the month, and we shall be wed," he revealed, and she felt her heart plummet in her chest.

She wasn't too keen on sharing her papa with anyone else. It had only been the two of them aside from a few servants these past twelve years, and she was perfectly content with the arrangement, but deep down she knew that he was lonely. He needed a companion and someone to be there for him in ways she couldn't. It might not be so bad having other girls to talk to and befriend. She'd never had any siblings and didn't know what that was like, but she would open her heart to them if it made her papa happy.

"It sounds lovely, papa! I can't wait to meet them!" she gushed, and she felt her heart flutter as he grinned from ear to ear.

He walked around the front of his desk and pulled her into a secure embrace, "I just know this is going to be best for all of us!" he gushed, and she patted his back and hoped that he was right.

"I'm sure they'll be delightful," she responded in an attempt to reassure herself, but a little unsure at the same time.

The following month flew by, and with it accompanied their new house guests. Belle stood beside her father in front of the Victorian when their carriage arrived.The driver halted the horses and dismounted from the carriage. He walked to the door and opened it, watching as Lady Mills stepped out of the carriage with the assistance of her chauffeur. She was an aristocratic woman with auburn hair piled atop her head in a sophisticated bun. She wore a satin rouge evening gown with sleeves that covered her elbows. A strand of expensive pearls adorned her neck, and Belle couldn't help but feel as if they were a wedding gift from her father.

The chauffeur helped a girl with ginger curls tied back in a neat ponytail out of the carriage next. She wore an olive sack back gown with matching petticoats, brocaded silk taffeta, linen bodice and sleeve linings. Belle assumed this was the elder sister as she filed in behind her mother. The next girl which stepped out of the carriage had long ebony hair which cascaded in waves past her shoulders. She wore a gown similar to her sister except it was of a soft lavender hue.

"Cora...I'm so glad you could make it!" he gushed before placing a chaste kiss on her lips. He then turned to Belle and smiled, "Cora this is my daughter Belle..." he introduced.

Belle clasped her hands in front of her skirt and bowed respectfully, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Mills. My father has told me much about you," she greeted her new stepmother warmly.

The woman smiled superficially at the girl with the chestnut curls which framed her face softly. Belle felt her stomach clench at the way she smiled. She had a knack for reading people, and she was certain that Lady Mills had an ulterior motive for marrying her father, but what could it be? She was pulled from her disarray of thoughts when she heard the other woman speak. "Please call me Cora, dearest … I would like you to meet your stepsisters Zelena and Regina," she remarked, gesturing towards the other two girls.

"Hello … I'm Belle," she responded with a small wave.

Zelena flashed her a brilliant white smile. "I love your dress! You have to tell me where you got it!" she demanded, pulling on the cerulean silk gown.

"My father bought it for me in Paris." she responded awkwardly from Zelena's advances.

"Do you think I might could borrow it? You and I are about the same size," she observed, raking her eyes over her slender form.

Belle cleared her throat uncomfortably as the ginger haired girl scrutinized her appearance. "Of course," Belle responded, and Zelena clapped her hands together gleefully.

"Goody! I have the perfect shoes to match!" she exclaimed.

"There's no need to covet your stepsister's clothing, Zelena. Maurice will buy you any dress you want. Won't you dear?" Cora inquired, and Maurice took her hand and kissed it reverently,

"Of course, my darling. Just say the word and I'll give you anything your heart desires!" he obliged. Belle didn't like the way her father looked at Cora. It was almost as if she had him under some spell. They all walked inside the mansion except for Regina who gazed at her with disinterest. She followed her sister and mother wordlessly into the house, leaving Belle to herself. She wasn't yet certain of what to make of her new stepmother and stepsisters, but she had an ominous feeling that nothing good could come of this arrangement.

In the months that followed, Belle began to feel smothered by her step sister Zelena. She was constantly raiding her closet and asking to borrow her dresses and jewelry. Belle didn't mind sharing her things with the other girl, but she grew tired of her constant meddling. Zelena was a gossip, and did whatever she could to stir up trouble. She constantly picked on her younger sister Regina, but Belle knew she only did this for attention. Cora fawned over the younger daughter, barely paying any mind to Zelena. Belle felt sorry for her and allowed her stepsister access to the majority of her belongings even if she did nauseate her at times. She felt like she'd kindled a decent friendship with her, but one day all of that shattered.

Belle was pouring over her Latin lesson in the library one day when her stepmother approached her. She barely had anything to do with her, and for that Belle was grateful. She didn't like the woman with her fine silks and calculating glances. She always felt like she had some sort of hidden agenda and wanted no part of it.

"Belle, you're such a good girl ... You always study so hard and are such an obedient child. I'm aware that your thirteenth birthday is coming up, and I would like to know what kind of party you would like to have? Do you have any friends you'd like to invite? We'll have the biggest celebration in your honor! How about it?" she coaxed with a venomous smile.

"A party … ? I'm flattered you want to host a birthday party in my honor, but I'm not very big on large gatherings. How about Zelena? She'll be sixteen this month and that's far more important than turning thirteen. I'm sure she'd love to have a party," she politely declined.

Cora guffawed in response. "Zelena isn't getting a party. Your father is taking her to Paris for her birthday, and I'd much rather throw you one instead. Your father has told me you don't care much for mingling, but you need to start thinking about these things because in a few years you'll be of marriageable age. How are you going to ever meet any suitors if you don't put yourself out there?" she probed, and Belle felt herself becoming uncomfortable in this woman's presence.

"You're probably right … I'll have a party if you believe it's the appropriate thing to do, but I'm afraid I have no idea who to invite," she consented hoping to rid herself of the vile woman's presence.

"That's no matter, my dear! I'll compile a guest list for you, and invite all of the young men and women close to your age in a ten mile radius. I can promise you won't be disappointed!" she chortled, kissing her cheek with motherly affection. Belle felt her cheek burn from the exposure and quickly rubbed the place with her hand after Cora turned her head, exiting the library, unaware of the seething redhead hidden behind one of the many bookcases.

Zelena had heard the entire exchange between her mother and stepsister. She'd truly began to like Belle, and had even started to consider her a friend, but no longer. She was now her rival and someone else to divert her mother's attention away from her ... just like Regina. She wouldn't stand for this. Belle would pay in the most horrendous way possible. She would take away everything she loved now that she'd stolen her mother's affections away from her.

Belle began to notice a strange withdrawal in Zelena's behavior. She barely acknowledged her anymore, and stopped asking to borrow her clothes. She excused her stepsister's peculiarity, and began to focus more on her studies. Maurice whisked Zelena away to Paris on a birthday venture leaving Belle alone with Cora and Regina. Belle thought it was odd that Cora had scheduled her party during their absence, but perhaps she had a good reason behind it. Maybe Zelena didn't like parties after all? Belle felt squeamish around the throng of guests she didn't know. She found it nauseating to share dance after dance with a parade of young men she barely knew. The heels Cora made her wear caused her feet to ache, and she slowly retreated away from the crowds as the night dragged on.

Glasses of brandy were passed around to the older folks as games of poker commenced. The younger party goers continued to dance in revelry, and no one noticed when she decided to slip away. She exchanged her heels for a pair of flats, and decided to wander down the familiar dirt path behind her house which led into the woods. Moonlight showed through the trees, casting its ethereal glow along the path. She inhaled the crisp night air, filling her lungs with the refreshing substance before exhaling softly. She wandered towards the brook and slipped off her shoes, plunging her feet into the chilly shallow water. She let out a loud moan, unbeknownst to her that she wasn't alone. She nearly fell into the water when she heard an impish voice from behind.

"Isn't it a bit late to be out here all alone, dearie?" the peculiar voice inquired. She spun around to see a figure shrouded by a cloak. A distinct pair of amber eyes glowed from beneath the hood.

"Who are you!?" she demanded, stepping back a few feet.

"Just a harmless traveler passing through the night … Now run along home before you catch a cold, dearie. These woods aren't safe for fair maidens like yourself. There's many a beast who'd make no objection of stripping that supple flesh from your bones," he remarked cryptically. Belle knew she should heed his warning and run along home, but he intrigued her.

"You don't intimidate me, beast...What's your name?" she inquired daringly, and she could feel him smirk beneath the hood.

"You haven't earned the right to know my name yet, dearie but one day we'll cross paths again, and I'll tell you what it is," he affirmed, giggling impishly, and then he was gone.

Belle rubbed her eyes, wondering if staying up so late was making her delusional. She put back on her shoes and raced back to the house. She blinked, startled to see that all of the carriages had departed except one. As she got closer to the house, she realized that it belonged to her father. She thought it was odd for him to be back so early since he wasn't due home for at least another two days. She traipsed back into the house feeling that deep down something wasn't right about all of this. She'd only been gone for a good forty-five minutes.

Once she stepped back inside the house, her ears were assaulted by loud somber cries. She plodded softly into the kitchen to see her stepmother and stepsisters all engaged in a tearful embrace. "Belle, where have you been!?" Cora demanded, breaking free of her other daughters.

"I just stepped out for some fresh air … What's got everyone in such a tizzy?" she questioned the sobbing trio.

Cora placed her hands firmly on her shoulders to steady her. "Belle, I don't know how to tell you this, but your father is dead. He fell ill halfway through the trip and had to be hospitalized. He died just a few hours later. Tomorrow another carriage will be bringing his body home … I'm so sorry this has happened to you!" she lamented, throwing her arms around the flummoxed girl. The woman's arms felt like vice grips around her, and all she wanted to do was put a hundred miles between them. She pulled away from Cora's embrace forcefully.

"You had something to do with this, didn't you!? I'm not some naive foolish girl! You only married my father for his money, and you killed him so that you could inherit his fortune!" she bellowed, pointing her finger at her accusingly.

"How can you say that, Belle!? Mother, she's gone mad! Lock her up before she does any harm to us or herself!" Zelena commanded, and Cora sighed backing away from the frazzled young woman.

"Zelena, you may be right, darling … Belle, I'm appalled that you would accuse me of such a crime. I loved your father deeply, and my heart is broken yet again by another loss of a husband. Regina, why don't you take Belle upstairs to her room? She needs her rest, and her mind needs time to process all of this before she falls into another fit of delusions," she instructed. Belle was about to object when the raven haired girl grabbed her hand forcefully and pulled her up the stairs.

"Let go of me!" She squirmed in Regina's grasp.

The dark haired sister pushed her against the wall before placing a finger to her lips. "Don't let my mother get to you … She loves to exploit others weaknesses and use it against them, and she'll try and do it to you too. My father wasn't killed ... she killed him, and I assume that she drove Zelena to do the same to your father. I shouldn't be telling you any of this, but I wanted to warn you that my mother is capable of great evil, and she'll use whatever means possible to get what she wants. She's driven my sister mad throughout the years to bend her to her will and do her dirty work. If you try and expose her to the authorities, she'll kill you. You're no longer the wealthy heiress of this household. My mother will have control of all of your father's accounts from now on, and there's nothing you can do about it but obey. Obey and stay out of the way, and once you get the chance, leave," she warned before pushing her into her darkened chamber and closing the door. Belle was too weak to fight as she collapsed on the duvet and wept bitterly.

The days passed by languidly, and Belle felt cold and hollow inside after the loss of her father. Cora wasted no time in putting her name on all of his accounts. In the days that followed, Belle spent most of her time alone in her room after Cora had dismissed all of the servants because without someone working to provide for them, they could not afford the luxury of a full staff. One day she came knocking with a sinister grin plastered on her lips. Belle opened the door and peeped out, her eyes red from crying,

"It's time to pull yourself out of this rut and get back on your feet. As the new overseer of this household, I'm commanding you to move all of your belongings to the attic. I'm giving this room to Zelena since she's the eldest daughter and favors it so much. You will also discontinue your studies because from now on you'll be responsible for cooking all of our meals and cleaning and taking care of the house. I dismissed all of the servants because we can no longer afford to pay them. Once you turn eighteen, you'll be allowed to leave the mansion if you like, but I wouldn't advise that. No one in their right mind would want a servant girl," she scoffed before turning to her with a menacing smile. "I'll divide your garments between Regina and Zelena since you will no longer be needing them. You'll be allowed to keep your books and a few possessions but that's it. There are plenty of servants clothes for you in the attic," she remarked maliciously, and she remembered Regina's words. Cora never loved her father. She'd ensnared him in her web of worldly charms, and now she was ensnaring her too. She had complete control of his fortune, and there was nothing she could do about it as she forced her into a life of servitude.

What kind of cruel trick of fate was this? She was barely a teenager and had already lost both of her parents. Her world came crashing down around her as the word she feared most entered her mind. Orphan … She was alone with no way out, for the world cared nothing for her kind. Orphans succumbed to the fate they were given for that was their only choice.

Belle moved all of the things Cora had permitted her to the attic the following day. Upstairs was an old trundle bed with a thin mattress. She draped a series of thick quilts over it, and fluffed the single pillow she was allowed to keep. She stowed away her few belongings, and braided her hair. She picked up the single family portrait she had of them before the Mills family had invaded her life. She admired the looks of pure joy on her parent's faces as her mother held her close to her breast, her father with his arm draped lovingly around her shoulder. Tears sprung to her eyes as she brushed her fingers over the dusty frame. Would she ever have that same joy in her life again? She was pulled from her barrage of thoughts as Cora called for her from downstairs. She tucked the photo away and tied the white apron around her blue dress as she sauntered towards the stairs to begin the monotonous list of chores her stepmother had compiled for her.

~X~

Belle pushed errant chestnut curls from her eyes as she scrubbed the kitchen floors. She should have been attending social gatherings and being solicited by various suitors for her hand in marriage, but she wasn't allowed to do any of that. She was the daughter of Maurice and Colette French, and the rightful heir to the French family fortune, but her wealth had been stolen by her evil stepmother, Cora. Belle lived under the woman's iron fist, and her covetous step sister. Zelena. She'd been banished to a life of servitude when she was just thirteen years old, and had endured hard labor for the past four and a half years. Without the unwavering glimmer of hope she held in her heart, she surely would have perished long before now.

The sun had began to set behind the trees, and Belle knew it was getting close to dinner time. She put away her brush and bucket and washed her hands before preparing dinner for the Mills family. It would be a cold day indeed before she allocated her father's beloved family name on those vipers. She hurried to start the kettle of tea and arrange the food she'd prepared for dinner. Her stepfamily took their meals in the drawing room, and expected everything in order by the time they came down.

Hearing creaks from upstairs, Belle rushed to the drawing room, shifting a blanket to cover the worn headrest on one of the chairs, reminding herself to sew a patch on the worn settee. She was just adding a log to the fire when Cora, Zelena, and Regina entered the room.

"I thought dinner was ready," her stepmother said, looking at the bare table.

"It is, madam," Belle replied. "I am only tending the fire for your comfort."

Cora huffed impatiently. "In the future, can we not be called until the work is finished?"

Belle didn't dare remind her that she hadn't called upon them at all. "As you wish," she said, collecting the dinner tray from the kitchen. She started to serve the tea when her stepmother Cora issued another snide remark.

"What is that on your face?" the auburn haired heiress inquired.

Belle's hand flew to her cheek. "Madam?"

"It's ash from the fireplace!" Zelena cried with glee.

Cora surveyed her a bit more, her cheeks twitching. "Clean yourself up." In her scolding, Cora couldn't keep the delight out of her voice at seeing Belle in such a state. "You'll get cinders in our tea."

Zelena clapped her hands, "I've got a name for her … Cinderwench!" she guffawed. Cora laughed at her as Belle tried to ignore them, serving the rest of their dinner in silence. Regina remained silent through the whole debacle, a sympathetic look flashing in her eyes for the other girl.

"I couldn't bear to look so dirty," Cora continued to taunt as she took a bite of her roll. Then her eyes lit up. "Ohh! Dirty Belle!"

"Cinderbelle!" Zelena practically shouted, clearly proud of herself. "That's what we'll call you!"

Cora chuckled approvingly, "You're too clever!" she praised her daughter.

Belle wore a polite smile, setting her plate and teacup down at the empty chair. She wouldn't give in to their teasing because she knew they wanted to elicit a reaction from her. Cora narrowed her eyes. "Who's this for? Is there someone we've forgotten?"

Belle smiled wanly, looking from her stepmother to her stepsisters. This was clearly another one of their hurtful games. "It's my place," she announced before taking her seat.

"It seems too much to expect you to prepare dinner, serve it, and still sit with us," Cora said. "Wouldn't you prefer to eat with us when all of the work is done, Belle?" she shot a glance at her daughters. "Or should I say, 'Cinderbelle'?" she mocked.

Belle's hands were shaking as she picked up the plate and hurried out of the room, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She attempted to set the plate down gently on the kitchen table, but her hands were trembling too much. The plate fell to the floor, shattering into a hundred pieces. Tears stinging her eyes, Belle knelt down to the clean up the mess when something caught her eye.

It was her reflection in a shiny copper pot. But this was not the Belle she knew. No, this was a thin, dirty girl, her hair knotted and dull, all the light and hope extinguished from her eyes. This was someone different entirely.

"Names have power, dearie," she thought back to the mysterious stranger she'd met in the woods on that fateful night, his words coming back to her on a forgotten memory.

'How right that is, she thought. For I am no longer the happy little girl I was with father. No, it's clear that I've changed.

I am Cinderbelle.


	2. Part Two

Part Two

Though her living conditions remained the same, Belle found joy in the days she went to town. It gave her a small escape from her stepmother and stepsisters' scrutinizing gazes. Regina was a bit kinder to her, but she was still made to do her mother's bidding. In reality, she didn't have a single friend in the world she could count on. She meandered through the hustle and bustle of the square, carrying her straw basket close to her side. She peeled her ears, listening to bits of conversation between customers and venders. She relished the sweet aromas wafting through the air from the bakery, and the smell of fresh cut flowers from the florist.

She noticed a man with dark sable eyes and long unruly hair standing behind a stall with the finest thread she'd ever seen in her life. Belle noticed as the the customers passed by his stall as if it were invisible. She sauntered towards the peddler, wanting to get a better look at his fabrics.

When the vendor noticed her interest in his wares, he cast her a welcoming smile. "What can I do for you, milady? Is there a certain color that interests you?" he inquired, and she smiled politely.

"I'm afraid I don't have the money to purchase such lavish threads, but they're all lovely. I particularly like this golden yellow hue. It would make a beautiful gown, but I wouldn't have anyplace to wear it or anyone to sew it for me," she supplied with a forlorn sigh, averting her gaze sheepishly.

He was about to make a remark when the blare of the trumpet cut through the chatter of the square, halting their conversation. Belle turned to see the royal crier perched on a wooden stand nearby. He readied himself to make a royal pronouncement while a crowd gathered round.

"Hear ye! Hear ye! Know that our good king George, fifth of that name, protector of the realm, Holy elector of Avonlea, has decided that on this day two weeks hence there shall be held, at the palace, a royal ball. At said ball, in accordance with ancient custom, the prince shall choose a bride."

The crier looked up as the crowd murmured in excitement, then he cleared his throat. "Furthermore, at the behest of the prince, it is hereby declared that every maiden in the kingdom, be she noble or commoner, is invited to attend."

At this, the murmurs turned into full-fledged cries of excitement. This was completely unprecedented. Commoners had never been invited to attend royal balls before, much less a ball so imperative to the future of the kingdom.

Belle couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement. This might just be her chance to escape her life of servitude. She turned back to the peddler with a satisfied smile gracing his lips, his sable eyes analyzing her curiously. She'd never met this man before, yet when she looked into his eyes, they felt familiar.

"It looks like you have a reason to make a dress now, dearest … Why don't you take the yellow fabric as a gift from me? Go home and make yourself a dress, and when you win the prince's heart, you can pay me back!" he insisted, thrusting his finest spool of golden thread, and a bolt of fine gold silk fabric into her arms.

"Th-Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I won't be going because the prince wouldn't choose a girl like me in a million years. Besides, my stepmother would forbid it," she protested, attempting to hand him back the fabric.

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down to meet his gaze, "Then that's all the more reason why you should go! Stop letting other people control your destiny, and choose your own fate for once. You might be surprised as to where it will take you," he asserted, before letting her go. The declaration of his words weighed heavily on her heart.

`X`

Cora and her daughters had gone to a party, leaving her with the house to herself. Belle ran her fingers over the fine thread, imagining what kind of ball gown it would make. An image of a golden ball gown appeared in her mind with a simply designed bodice, wrapped off the shoulder sleeves, a wide-hemmed floor-length skirt made of eight triangular panels and a multiple layered white petticoat with a scalloped edging on the hemline. She would have her hair tied back in a sophisticated bun, but the majority of it would trail down her neck in silken waves.

She decided to get to work as she produced her mother's old sewing kit from the drawer. She knew a little about sewing from one of her maids, and hoped it would be enough to make her dress. Belle tirelessly worked on making her dress, and used all of her free time to sew and hem it. It was almost as if the thread the peddler had gifted her with was magical because it seemed to flow so effortlessly through her fingertips and the spool didn't run out until she was completely finished with the gown.

On the night of the ball, Belle admired her finished work. She was a seamstress by no means but her dress was extravagant. It was almost as if the fabric was enchanted, and had conjured itself into such a masterpiece. Belle pinned her hair up in a high bun and donned the gown. She admired it in the full length mirror, more than satisfied with her work. Now for the hard part … convincing her stepmother to let her go to the ball.

"Do the brave thing and bravery will follow," she repeated the mantra over and over in her head as she descended the stairs.

In the foyer stood her stepmother and stepsisters each adorned in their evening gowns. Zelena was the first to notice Belle in all her glory. A pang of jealousy shot through her once she noticed how beautiful her sister looked, "Mother, look!" Zelena shouted, pointing towards the stairs. Cora gazed up to see Belle in her golden ball gown which put theirs to shame.

"Where did you get that!?" Cora demanded in an accusatory tone, sauntering towards the beauty.

"I made it!" Belle said defensively, and she heard Cora scoff loudly at her comment.

"Made it? You made it? Are you sure you didn't steal it!?" she sneered, pulling on the lace fringe.

"Stop it! You'll rip it!" she fired back, resulting in a stinging feeling across her face. Belle held her cheek, stunned by her stepmother's actions. Cora constantly berated her, but she'd never raised a hand to her before.

"Mother, don't you think that's unnecessary? Belle works hard! Shouldn't she be allowed to go to the ball too?" Regina quickly defended.

Cora turned to the raven haired girl, giving her a pointed glance. "Go to the ball? Servants don't get to go to balls! The only place she's going is back upstairs to take that thing off! I'll investigate this matter later! Now get in the carriage!" Cora commanded, practically pushing her daughters out the door.

She turned back to the stairs, giving her step daughter an admonishing look, "Don't even think of leaving this house! If I find out that you did, I'll lock you in that attic permanently!" she threatened before storming out of the house, the door slamming behind her. Belle collapsed on the stairs in a sobbing heap, feeling as if all her hard work was for naught. What had she been thinking that her stepmother would really allow her to go to the ball?

The sound of their moving carriage outside made her want to run, so she did. She didn't know where she was going, but she picked up her skirts and ran out the back door and down the dirt path which led to the bubbling brook. She was about to step into its shallow depths when she heard a warning voice from behind.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you dearie! Your dress will get dirty and then you won't be fit to go to the ball." the familiar voice resounded from behind, She turned around to see an impish man with gold gray skin and distinct amber eyes.

"You're the peddler from the marketplace who sold me the thread, and the mysterious stranger I met by this very brook years ago. What are you doing here?" she inquired, mesmerized by him, her feet carrying her closer as if by a will of their own.

"Were you expecting your fairy godmother, dearie?" he smirked impishly, and she shook her head,

"Of course not. I don't believe in such fairy tales," she scoffed.

"Good, because I might have stolen her wand, but anyway that's of no importance … The real reason why I'm here is to help you get to the ball," he elaborated with his hands fluidly.

"I'm not going, so you're wasting your time. I have no desire to marry a prince. The only thing I wish to do is separate myself from the vile fiends who insist on making my life a living hell … " she explained petulantly, kicking a rock with her foot in irritation into the brook.

"Well, dearie … The only reason I'm here is because I need you to go to the ball, and distract the prince with your worldly charms, while I steal one of his royal gemstones for my potion. You can do whatever you like after the ball, but you do owe me for the fabric," he warned with a mischievous gleam in his eye. Belle felt heat pool in her belly. She'd never met anyone like him before, and he was eliciting foreign desires from her.

"And I believe I just told you I no longer wish to attend," she countered stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest. She was thinking more and more how she'd prefer to spend the evening in the imp's presence, for he promised far more entertainment than one of the royal affairs up the hill in that stuffy old castle.

His movements were fluid, almost snakelike as he moved closer, his face mere inches from hers. A calculating gleam shone in his eyes as he trapped one lone chestnut lock between his fingers and drew her closer, certain she wouldn't be so haughtily stubborn when in such proximity with his beastly countenance. "I'm afraid I must insist, dear girl. A debt is owed after all."

Belle decided to call his bluff, not at all intimidated with his high-handedness. He frowned as she lifted her hands to her bodice. "If you'll give me a hand with the stays, I'll be happy to return your property," she drawled with a coy smile.

He jumped back as if she'd set him aflame. "I don't wish for your dress! Just do as I ask and go to the ball," he cajoled.

She sighed, shooting him a level look. She couldn't remember the last time she'd enjoyed mere conversation. An idea struck her, and she couldn't quell the bubble of excitement coiling in her breast. "Fine … I'll go but only if you'll accompany me to the ball as my escort for the evening," she countered.

He gave her a puzzled look. "Date?" he inquired, gaping at her.

"Yes I want you to be my escort - " she proposed, fishing for a name.

"Rumplestiltskin," he saluted her with a gentlemanly bow, He was so flummoxed, his well-guarded name had passed his lips before he could think twice.

"Well Rumple … I hope it's okay if I call you Rumple." She blushed, and he couldn't help but find her utterly adorable in that moment,

"Yes, dearie … Rumple is fine … Now how about we head to that ball? After we arrive, I'll need you to create a diversion for the prince and his guests while I find the gem I need. I'll meet back up with you outside on the palace steps once the clock strikes midnight. If you're not there, then I'll know you've decided to stay at the ball with the prince, but if you meet me on the steps, then I'll know you've decided that he isn't for you," he giggled impishly.

"Deal..." she nodded, and he snapped his fingers, whisking them away to the palace in a fog of crimson smoke.

~X~

Prince Robin sighed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He was bored out of his mind with all the frippery below. From his spot in the upper balcony of the ballroom, he had been watching the majordomo announce every guest for the last hour. None of the ladies in their lavish silks and fine jewelry stuck out to him. They all looked the same amongst the crowd of powdered faces.

As his eyes swept over the grand ballroom, which glittered under the glowing chandeliers, he watched the baton-wielding conductor leading the orchestra through a lively waltz. He saw the servants, dressed in tailcoats, walking around with trays topped with hors d'oeuvres and glasses of champagne, and he observed the guests - royal and commoner alike - dressed in their colorful finery milling about.

They'd come from far and wide for this ball, and the excitement was evident, even from his perch, but none of them turned his head. His father had insisted he marry for power, but in reality all he wanted was to marry for love.

Rumplestilskin placed a glamor spell on them so that he and Belle would be unrecognizable to everyone. They entered the palace together as the royal crier introduced him as Lord Gold and her as Lady Beatrice of Avonlea. They filed in and behind the others, and immersed themselves within the crowd. They partook of a few dances, and she was convinced that Rumple was a wonderful dancer. When the tenth hour approached, the king began soliciting various ladies to dance with his son. The prince looked bored, and Belle couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"I'm sorry dearie, but this is where we must part. I need to find that jewel. Meet me on the palace steps when the clock strikes midnight for that is when the glamor spell will wear off, and we don't want your dear old stepmother to discover you here, now do we?" he whispered silkily in her ear before disappearing into the crowd. She felt a pang of emptiness fill her heart at his departure, but didn't have time to dwell on it before she was being picked for a dance with the prince.

"Milady … May I have this dance?" the prince inquired of her, and she nodded demurely, taking his outstretched hand.

"You may," she obliged. She trained her eyes on the prince but couldn't help but allow her eyes to wander occasionally to other corners of the room, searching for Rumplestiltskin.

"If you don't mind me asking … Who are you looking for?" he whispered against the shell of her ear to be heard over the sounds of revelry.

It never crossed her mind that he would pick up on her anxiousness. "I'm looking for my friend … I'm sorry to take up your time, but I'm not really interested in marrying a prince or anyone for that matter," she apologized, and he chuckled dryly as they spun on the dance floor.

"I'm not either, but my father is insistent on me marrying someone. He doesn't understand that these things take time. I don't want to be stuck in a loveless marriage," he scoffed, and Belle couldn't help but chortle at his displeasure.

"Then you should make that very clear to your father … A life lived without love is a life half lived. I hope you find your one true love tonight, and that she also finds you," she beamed brilliantly.

"And I hope you do the same, Lady Beatrice. Go … find your lover." He winked as they parted ways on the dance floor. Belle gaped at his observation, but perhaps he was right. She glanced at the clock which read a quarter until midnight, and her mind went back to his proposal. She could meet him on the palace steps or stay at the ball. What would meeting him on those steps entail? Would he just lengthen the glamor spell, and leave her all alone again, or would he take her with him? Belle wasn't sure what she was doing except what her heart told her to, and it urged her with haste to those palace steps. She picked up her skirts, and pushed through the crowds as another five minutes ticked by.

She made her way out on to the steps, gasping for breath. Rumplestiltskin!" she called out to the man facing away from her in dragon leather attire. He turned around, surprised to see her, his rough features softening in stunned delight. She sauntered towards him, bravely cupping his face in her hands, "I'm here." She smiled sweetly at him, her fingers shyly toying with the hair falling over his brow to mask his eyes from her.

He cleared his throat, trying to gather his wits about him. "I see that, dearie … I'm guessing you didn't fancy the prince or you wouldn't be here," he bubbled in his thick brogue, his heart hammering in his chest from her close proximity.

"I'm afraid not, but there is someone I do fancy very much … " she smiled through her half lidded gaze, and he shuddered from her advances as she dusted her fingertips down his jawline.

"And who might that be?" he whispered huskily, his hands lifting to settle possessively at her waist. She didn't answer him with words, but with her lips pressed firmly against his in a mesmerizing kiss. He tangled his fingers in her thick chestnut tresses, pulling them from the bun atop her head as he worshiped her lips with his own. The clock chimed, signaling the witching hour, and Belle relaxed securely in his arms after breaking the kiss.

"Take me with you..." she pleaded breathlessly, and he smiled against her skin, but pulled away with the soft shake of his head.

"I'm afraid that would be too dangerous, my dear. After this night I'm going on a long journey ... one I must complete on my own."

"I have no quality of life here … My stepmother and stepsisters treat me as though I am their slave. I can't return home to all of that," she sighed, leaning against him.

"Don't worry, dearie. I took care of them. You won't have to worry about them anymore, and I've returned all of your father's accounts back to your name," he assured her, kissing her forehead lightly.

"Will I ever see you again?" she inquired with tear brimmed eyes.

"As sure as the sun rises, I'll return to you again someday," he assured her with a parting kiss against her lips, and then he vanished. She stood beside the bubbling brook in her golden dress. Had it all been a dream? She plodded back to the house surprised to see a royal carriage parked at her residence. She walked towards the carriage, and a driver emerged.

"Are you Ms. Belle French?" the driver inquired, and she nodded briskly.

"I am." she affirmed, and he presented her with a set of documents which spoke of criminal charges against her stepmother Cora and step sister Zelena.

"What happened?" she questioned as she gazed over the documents which read of a charge against them for theft. "Lady Mills and her daughter Zelena were caught trying to steal some of the royal jewels while the prince danced with Regina. We just wanted to make you aware of these charges, and inform you they've been taken into custody and will stand trial in a few days," he explained, and she smiled before handing him back the documents.

"Thank you, good sir," she replied, bidding him goodnight. She couldn't thank Rumplestiltskin enough for making things fall in her favor. Belle wasted no time in the following days, opening up new accounts in her name and transferring the remaining funds. She made sure Cora and Zelena didn't have a penny to their names, and couldn't help but feel even more satisfied when Regina refused to bail them out of their misery. She and Prince Robin had hit it off at the ball, and would be wed by the end of the month. Regina made sure to send Belle some royalties for the discomfort her family had caused her throughout the years.

Belle focused on tending to the gardens, and putting her father's business back into working order while she waited for her beloved to return. A few years had passed since the events of the ball, and she tried to convince herself that she'd made him up while in the pit of her grief. She wasn't sure what led her to the worn dirt path behind the house, but she felt something calling her. She traipsed down the path and dipped her feet into the bubbling brook.

She felt her breath hitch in her throat when she heard his phantom voice from behind. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, dearie! Your dress will get dirty, and then you won't be fit to go to the ball," he teased.

Belle turned around to meet the warm sable eyes of the peddler she'd met in the square all of those years ago, his gold gray skin replaced by human flesh. He wasn't dressed in his usual leather attire or the worn tunic and breeches he wore in the marketplace. He was dressed in the finest suit she'd ever seen but none of that mattered. It didn't matter if he was donned in rags or riches, she still wanted him. She flung herself into his arms, kissing him mercilessly. He devoured her lips in a searing kiss, and only pulled apart because of thier need for air.

"You came back..." she cried, tears cascading down her cheeks. He cradled her face in his hands, brushing away any stray tears which fell.

"As sure as the sun rises, I'll always return to you, my Belle." He smiled, and she couldn't help but laugh joyously through her tears.

"Where did you go that you couldn't take me with you?" she inquired, and he entwined their fingers.

"It's quite a long story, my Belle … Would you like to hear it?" he asked, and she smiled.

"I have an entire lifetime to listen to all of your stories ... if you promise to stay with me forever."

"Forever it is then, dearie … " he promised before kissing her again.

They returned together to the Victorian where he recounted to her all of his tales, and she listened. The kingdom thrived under Regina and Robin's reign while Cora and Zelena spent the rest of their days locked away from the rest of the world, and Belle and Rumplestiltskin settled down into the routine of daily life as husband and wife. Sometimes they would stay in the mansion, but Belle had always thirsted for adventure and was always willing to go anywhere with him. Sometimes he appeared to her as an imp and other times as a man, but she loved all of him. Cinderbelle may not have ended up with the prince, but she'd found true love with her wily imp, and that was good enough in her book.

The End

A/AN: I hope you all enjoyed that … Here is the very first in a series of fairy tales I want to write. I took a few different elements from the Cinderella story, but I wanted this to be kind of original. I've left a lot of Rumple and Belle's romance shrouded in mystery because I wanted this to focus more on Belle and her experience, and less on Rumple. In some stories that I write, they will center more on Rumple than Belle, but I hope you enjoyed this regardless. Please review!


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